Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x08: Mystery Man - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: September 26, 2022Stories in this Episode: - I live Below a Cult Leader and I Fear I've Angered Her, by wllthisisweird20 (0:51) - At The Door, by AR (10:54) - The Neighbor, by So-Nora (17:33) - The Cool Guy, by Mi...ana (39:14) - Mystery Man, by Sarah (41:58) Extended Patreon Content: - Plasma Clinic Caller, by Angie - Carmen Sandiego Lady, by Matt - Every Two Hours, by anon - The Time I Almost Died, by thebeckyzone All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com.  Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix as well as the first episode of my new podcast the Old Time Radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com. Field of Greens is powered with a full spectrum of essential vegetables and fruits. You've gotta try it out. I got you 15% off your first order and another 10% off when you subscribe. Visit FieldOfGreens.com and use promo code MEET. Download the FREE Upside App and use promo code meet to get $5 or more cash back on your first purchase of $10 or more!!! - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty Â
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Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals.
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This podcast contains adult language and content.
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Enjoy the show.
My name is Andrew Tade in the season 9 episode 8 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror
Podcast. I, a female 28 years old, have lived in the same apartment for 4 years.
My neighbors and the unit above me are a couple in their 30s who have lived there for about
3 years with no issues between us.
During the past 6 months, I've noticed some changes in their behaviors.
At first it was just a few days per week.
I would hear music with heavy bass accompanied by rhythmic jumping.
I assumed that they bought an exercise bike or something, but sometimes the jumping would
get so intense that it would shake my overhead light fixtures.
The jumping routine has been escalating to the point that it takes place every day, normally
between 8 a.m. and 10 a.m.
I also noticed that they called 1-800 junk and got rid of a bunch of nice possessions.
However, I figured none of this was my business, so I kept my observations to myself.
About three weeks ago, everything escalated.
Multiple times per week, on weekdays and during work hours, it would sound like they were
hosting a many burning man event in their apartment.
The music is so loud and clear that it sounds as if I'm
at some kind of concert while sitting in my living room. There's clearly a lot of people
involved because the jumping and stomping shakes multiple light fixtures and cabinets.
The music is a mix of new age and spiritual vibes, as well as some dance beats, and a male voiceover that's giving weird
instructions like, rebrand yourself, surrender yourself, and there would be stomping in
response.
I've taken audio recordings on my phone and one video of the hallway during these events.
I still didn't complain to the building,
but I wanted evidence in case it became a regular thing.
This week, I've encountered a big problem.
The couple above me has a private patio,
which is directly above my bedroom.
I came home from a three-day trip out of town just yesterday, and my ceiling is legitimately
collapsing in one corner. Big chunks of plaster had fallen to the ground, and I saw a little
bit of water. I immediately called my super, since I don't want to be buried alive by ceiling rubble if it gives out. When he came to check it out,
he was shocked and pissed. He said that the woman and the couple appears to be working with some
people, quote unquote, doing workshops or something. He can see their patio from his apartment window and has watched the group do these dancing, jumping, rituals.
They would do this on a weekly basis.
He said they all dance and jump to music and then spread dirt all along with something else that he
doesn't know quite what it is across the patio. He believes that this dirt and unknown
substance combo is getting through the wooden cracks, absorbing water, and weighing down
my ceiling. In order to fix the problem, my super said that he would have to go talk to the
woman, check out their patio, and ultimately hire a contractor to pull up the wood to
scrape out whatever the hell is causing my ceiling to fall.
I could hear them talking from my room, the woman sounded distraught and defensive.
When my super left, he called me and warned me that she might try to come down to my apartment
and demand to see the damage,
but not to let her in.
This was concerning.
Is she a threat?
The damage is real, but I wouldn't mind showing her.
She started playing her music again, relatively loud, kind of like a warning shot, I guess. I mentioned the music and jumping to the
super and said that I had audio recordings. He started begging me to send this
evidence to the front office. It sounds like he wants them evicted. I said,
okay, sure. I hate to be a rat, but if I have to choose sides, all side with the
building that dictates my annual rent price.
He called me twice more that afternoon to confirm that I shared my evidence, and I said yes.
Shortly after everything went down, I left my apartment to run an errand.
The woman was outside standing on the sidewalk. She just stared at me the entire time as I walked by.
I ignored her.
This isn't my fault.
Now today I went to run another quick errand in the neighborhood.
When I returned, the couple was again standing on the sidewalk, but both of them this time. They followed me into the
building and then waited until I was opening my apartment door to confront me. They
were both wearing these creepy fake smiles. The woman had horse hair down to her waist.
They started interrogating me. They asked, is your ceiling really collapsing? When did
it start? Do you think that it was related to the recent rainfall? Because our patio
is just fine. I was a little uncomfortable. Were they waiting for me outside? How did
they know I even left the building? Why were they both standing there? I've literally never
seen them enter together in the three years that they've lived there. But I have nothing
to hide so I confirmed that the damage is pretty bad. I just don't want it to fall during
the winter. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but hopefully the work will be done quickly for everyone's sake." I said.
They seemed satisfied enough, so I said have a good day and I shut my door.
I'm getting a sense that they're nervous about what the contractors will find when they
tear open their patio.
What the fuck is up with these rituals, these dirt rituals?
Who are these people that she's working with?
I don't know what they look like or why they're available to stop around on weekdays.
The repair has started on both sides, but the contractors will come on Wednesday for
the grand reveal of what's under the patio that's making my ceiling collapse.
In the meantime, I feel like I need to be alert and keep my eyes out for these people,
as well as the couple.
It's unusual for me to see them in general, especially twice in two days.
They seem scared or in denial of the problem.
They also literally ambushed me.
Hopefully it's over soon.
Now I do have an update since I wrote that. The contractors came today and reported,
there was in fact dirt and sludge visible below the neighbor's patio. However, thanks to
the help of my internet-sloothing friend, I've gained a lot more insight into
the realm that dwells above me.
As one person suggested, and nice work, my neighbor is affiliated with multiple ecstatic
dance communities, both international and local.
The international group has planned events during which all cells of the organization
host dance sessions simultaneously. It also has a YouTube channel that streams
Sci-Trans Music 24-7. I listened to a portion of it and the female voiceover declared,
and the female voiceover declared, you are becoming the Game Master.
Meanwhile, the local groups seem to be more exclusive
and more radical in their mindset.
One of the local groups hosted by my neighbor's good friend
conducts three-day events that cost upwards
of $400 for admission.
Participation in all three days is mandatory.
I get the impression that they all sleep in the studio space,
and the event description mentions that it begins with a ritual.
The last and darkest affiliation that I've confirmed via social media footprints
is that my neighbor and a few of the members of this local community
are also involved with some compassionate death groups.
There's no way for me to verify at this time if these affiliations overlap in a meaningful way,
so I will simply state the facts that I have evidence to prove.
My super asked me about the jumping again when I saw him today.
He remains eager to act.
He agreed with my new game plan
to wait for another large event to happen
and then call him to check on my dishwasher
so he can intervene.
So for now, the ways in which the puzzle pieces
of ecstatic dance, compassionate death,
patio, dark rituals, and ceiling collapse connect will remain a mystery. Hey, sweetie, what do you think of our new car from Carvana?
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First, we can take the scenic route to the beach
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We'll see if your drums fit in the trunk.
Then we can pick up Mommy's friends and check out that leg room.
And we should really visit Grandma.
She's getting up there.
That's like a whole lifetime in seven days.
And like one busy family.
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In 2005, I was 12 years old and Katrina had uprooted our family for quite some time.
But as soon as our home was livable, we moved back
in.
Although we still need time to make our house a home again, it was still great to move
back in.
We were missing things, but nothing significant that we couldn't live without for the time
being.
The only sense of normalcy that I had at the time was softball
and the friends that I made on the team. I became particularly close with one friend,
we'll call her Becca. Becca was a fun friend, everyone liked her. One night we decided that we
would have a sleepover. And during said sleepover, we crept down the wood stairs
ever so quietly to get on the family laptop.
My space had us all choke hold it at the time,
and we wanted to log in, or whatever reason,
in the wee hours of the morning.
My mother had purchased her dream dining room table after the storm had ruined almost all
of the furniture in our home.
I set at the elongated dining room in the front portion of our house.
The head of the table where the laptop sat faced our glass front door and two side-by-side
floor-to-ceiling windows.
The front door had a rectangle-shaped fancy glass that went down to the floor,
and it was stained glass, but without the color. Some pieces would be shaded for privacy, though.
We sat down at the table, opened the laptop, and Becca began to click away at the keys.
We decided to keep the lights in the dining room off. The house was like a fishbowl. We still had not acquired
new curtains in the nutshell of a house that we just moved into. It would be easy for
someone to see us inside from the dark shadows outside. Recently a neighbor had stumbled upon a man standing
in his yard peering into his house. He shouted and scared him off and called the police.
So I was a bit weary after hearing my parents speak of it.
I propped my chin up on my hands as I sat beside Becca, laptop light illuminating our faces.
Some time had passed before I finally saw it.
There, on the small dimly lit front porch.
I sat up quickly, no longer in a sleepy days.
Slowly I reached over and padded Becca's thigh to get her attention.
She was confused but eventually met my gaze.
To my horror, we watched as this white figure crouched down on its hands and feet meandered
around. Maybe it's a dog, I thought, but no.
Silently we watched it near the glass door.
It peered through the glass.
Slowly it moved to get a better view through one of the clear parts.
Definitely not a dog.
Picture the grudge, type of movement. It must have seen us looking because it creepily backed up from the door.
Our view was clear but slightly darkened.
We saw it passing in front of the two windows still all on fours.
It went off into the darkness, onto the other side of the house.
We ran to my parents' room where
they sprung out of bed. My dad checked out the house, but to no avail.
The only explanation I could think of was there was an asylum close to our home. When
I was a kid, a sign on the highway always intrigued me. It read, Do not pick up hitchhikers.
After the storm, maybe the hospital security wasn't as tight as it should be.
Perhaps the cameras were down and someone escaped?
It definitely fit the description of what we saw.
A person, not a dog, and a white hospital gown peering through the unshaded part of the front door
to get an up close glimpse. Midnight Creeper, let's never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal
government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to
individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills and business
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That's managementconcepts.com.
About 12 years ago, my boyfriend at the time, and I ended up finding a cheap quiet studio
to rent for practically free.
Of course we had to maintain the three properties there and help our land lord out with his
meals or just drive him out to eat where you were also treated for taking him out.
The studio that we were moving into needed a decent amount of renovations to
be comfortable and livable. It was pretty quiet and isolated on top of that hill. Besides
our studio, there was a neighbor across our driveway, about 150 feet away, plus our landlord
who owned all three homes, located about three quarters of a football field to the right
of our studio.
The landlord's girlfriend lived in an apartment above the landlord's garage.
The landlord was extremely cool, so we got free cable, water, and power.
We only had to pay for propane, for heat, and hot water. That bill was to be split with the
neighbor across the driveway from us since we shared the large propane tank.
We didn't officially meet our new neighbor until a few weeks after moving in.
We all introduced ourselves and had a normal conversation.
I got a chance to really talk to her a couple of weeks after our initial meeting.
We stood around outside, talking for almost an hour.
When my renovations were brought up, I wanted to show her our great work, so we headed inside
my place for a small tour. It was a studio, as mentioned, so you pretty much got the whole
house tour just stepping in the front door. That's where the weirdness truly began.
The first actual words that she spoke upon entering the front door were, is that a used
mattress while pointing at our bed? Now, if you know me, you know that when it comes
to my beds, I keep them very clean. I even use a mattress cover. So, her question really threw me, as I stared at our
bright, white, clean mattress edge that was exposed, as a result of me making the bed
earlier that morning. All I could manage to say was, no, I got it brand new.
We all had our varying work schedules, so I really didn't see her for another few weeks
after that.
But then the landlord's girlfriend pulled me aside one day with something pretty interesting
to say.
She told me that my neighbor had been telling her and the landlord that my boyfriend and
I were known to have burglable houses.
I was blown away.
I wondered why she would say that.
Neither my boyfriend nor I had even known anyone
capable of that, let alone us being capable of that ourselves.
The neighbor's daughter turned out to be a new cop, and she still worked in the jail
for her first year. Supposedly, that's how the neighbor knew what she didn't even know.
All I could really say to the landlord and his girlfriend
was the obvious fact that we weren't even capable and couldn't even prove it. But we had
clean criminal records, so we just dismissed it for the time being.
After that, we started noticing dirty looks from her here and there. So naturally, it was
pretty awkward when I had to go over and knock on her door
in order to collect her half of the propane bill. She gave me a check and when I read her name
aloud, I looked into her eyes. I remembered who she was. When I was about 16, so probably 12 years
or so before moving in next door to her, I ended up at her house with my high school
boyfriend for Thanksgiving. My boyfriend at the time's parents were friends with her and her
husband, and they had a daughter who was our age at the time. My boyfriend and I hung out with
the daughter while the adults hung out and got drunk as they prepared dinner. I barely remember even interacting with any of the adults except for, of course, at dinner.
Yet, after that evening, I was told by my boyfriend from his parents that I was no longer
welcome back at his parents' friend's house.
Neither my boyfriend nor I could possibly think of why.
I found out a couple of months later why.
Let's just say that I hit puberty early. That got me plenty of unwanted attention from guys,
even older ones. My boyfriend's dad at the time enjoyed staring at me and was pretty open about it,
so no surprise that on Thanksgiving that night, as both men were
at least pretty buzzed on beers, they noticed me. Obviously, word got back to the women and they
were not happy. Add to that the fact that shortly before I moved in next door to her, years later,
her husband had divorced her, and she was quite bitter about it. I laughed
at first, upon reading the name on the check, and asked her if she was of the same last
name that I had known in high school. She gave me a sideways smile and told me that she
indeed remembered exactly who I was. That combined with the fact that the landlord's girlfriend had told me that I was
the only tenant that she had ever had a problem with. Told me the worst was yet to come.
It was just small things at first that we started to notice. Like when I would get home,
I would always hit the lock button on the key fob to lock my car, which would make the horn honk once
to confirm that it was locked. Every single time that I would do that, she would always
have to hit her key fob from inside her house to make her car honk as well.
Then the landlord informed us that she requested that my boyfriend and I stay completely off her property and
to not even knock on her door.
But then right after, she turned around and had our landlord ask us if we could go into
her house while she was gone to set up a treadmill for her.
She just left her front door unlocked for us to do it.
One day, we had a friend stop by for a visit. He had a really weird look
on his face as he came up our walkway, though. So naturally, my boyfriend and I looked at
each other and then asked him, why the face? Well, he said, as he sat down on our porch,
your neighbor, some woman, she took a picture of my license plate
as soon as I parked,
and then she wanted to know
if I was going to be spending the night here.
And shock and bewilderment,
we asked him what she looked like
just to make sure it was her and,
yes, it surely was.
She even took pictures of our license plates after that.
She got real petty. She started trying to keep track of whenever
one of us would even step over the line to her halfway of the driveway. If she felt
that one of us drove up the driveway in front of her house too fast, she would scream at
whoever it was. That got me up in her face yelling at her one time. She even threatened to sue us once, because according to her, one of our cats was on her
car and scratched her new car's paint when she scared it off of her car.
I used a squirt bottle when I noticed the same cat on a similar dark-colored newer car
one day, and no way were scratch is, like she had said. I mean, you could see the
clear coat where the cats nails were. But it rubbed right off just by using my finger.
I started to worry about my three cats around her, especially after one of my nosy,
did-seer cats wandered into her house after she left her front door wide open.
Whenever that cat would wander towards her house after that, I front door wide open. Whenever that cat would wander towards
her house after that, I'd call him back if I happened to see him doing it. The cat disappeared
shortly thereafter. My boyfriend and I smelled something around the property a couple of months later
after searching tirelessly for him, but we could never locate the source of that smell.
But we could never locate the source of that smell. Tensions between the three of us and even the poor landlord and his girlfriend were pretty
high at that point, but it got worse one afternoon when I happened to catch her on our property.
I was around the back side of our house, talking to my boyfriend.
But when I went to walk back around to our front door, I caught her.
She was crossing back over the driveway toward her house with this stupid childlike guilty look on her face. Believe it or not, it actually took a couple of minutes for it to dawn on me
that she had been sneaking around to the side of our house to Eve's drop on us.
Come to think of it, that's about the time I started to hear
strange noises outside our windows at night. Our male situation was a bit strange at that place
because there was only one mailbox for our address which was three houses on that same property
all shared. There was only one key to the mailbox, which the landlord had. The landlord and
his girlfriend didn't drive anymore, so usually my neighbor lady would get the mail from
the box for everyone and drop it off over at the landlord's house so we could go and
get it from him. So one fine day I trotted over to the landlords to see if my check had
come in the mail. He said that it hadn't come,
and I could tell just by looking at the mail pile, it wasn't there. It was a state check,
so it looked kind of obvious amongst regular mail. On the way out of my landlord's house,
she was coming up the stairs on her way back in, so I asked her if she happened to have seen it,
and that, I thought maybe that's why
she was heading back into the landlord's house, maybe because she forgot to give it to
him.
But boy did she explode on me.
She started yelling at me that she had no idea what I was even talking about.
I couldn't understand her reaction at all, until a couple of months later.
I had started noticing that I wasn't receiving certain
important things that I was expecting in the mail. Like my new driver's license, vehicle
tags, and registration, it's pretty important stuff like Social Security paperwork too.
So I hatched a plan and informed the landlord first. The second person I glued in was our mailman,
since it was a locked mailbox. Since there was only one key
to said mailbox, my theory should have been easy to prove, and it was. My plan was to
address an envelope as if it were important, and coming in the mail for me. I only planned
to give it to the mailman at our mailbox, so it would be missing a postmark. But I hoped
she would overlook that small detail.
After the mailman deposited it into our mailbox, I just had to wait for her to bring the mail
to the landlord, and I could see if she left it in with the rest of the mail or not.
Sure enough, when I went to the landlord to pick up our mail. It wasn't there. Excited to finally be able to make her face some consequences for her crappy actions,
I immediately called the postmaster to report the mail theft. But unfortunately, being the beginning
of the recession back then, the post offices were far too understaffed to even explore the case.
I also tried calling the sheriff, but male theft
isn't their territory. I then started to notice that the noises outside my windows at
night were happening more frequently. Not only that, but I started waking up during the
night with severe stomach pains and diarrhea that would usually be gone by the morning. That
would happen at least twice a
month while living there. Then one day as I went out into my front yard to talk on my cell phone,
because it was zero service in the house, the neighbor lady suddenly appeared on her front porch
and faced me, while holding her cell phone pointed out towards me. I couldn't figure out if she was
towards me. I couldn't figure out if she was eavesdropping on my phone call somehow or maybe filming me, but after that, she would do it every single time that I was home, and
I went out to make a phone call. On top of all of that, she had recommended a daughter
and boyfriend of a friend of hers to move into the landlords above the garage
apartment. Apparently the landlord's girlfriend had suddenly moved out, leaving the apartment
vacant. Now, you would think that a nosy neighbor like that, monitoring our guests, would
choose nice and safe people to live on our property.
Wrong. The young couple definitely wreaked havoc. I'll tell you. At first, they got into the landlord's
house while we were all out to dinner one night. They stole what they assumed to be the
landlord's cell phone from his living room, but it was actually my recently deceased mother's
cell phone that I had lent to him since the cell phone had about a year left on the contract
agreement. Also, some of the last pictures of my mother and I were on that phone. I didn't
actually find out that the cell phone was stolen, but my boyfriend told me as soon as our
landlord told him. I remember that I was out in my field doing some tracking for a peeping
tom, which is a whole other story, when he came out to tell me. I immediately
yanked my phone out of his pocket and called the stolen phone. A younger sounding
girl answered, but hung up after hearing me ask who it was. We both left my
other house right away and headed to our studio so I could confront the
young couple at their apartment.
My boyfriend and I quietly crept up the stairs in the garage that led up to their apartment.
As I stood quietly outside of the apartment door, I texted the phone that I thought they
had stolen.
I did that because that particular brand of phone had a certain text tone exclusive to
that type of phone only, and I knew that my mom had the phone set to that text tone.
Sure enough, I heard it go off inside their apartment, so I calmly knocked on the door
and waited for them to answer.
When the young girl answered the door, I calmly asked her about the phone. Before she could even answer me, though, I explained to her that the phone that had been stolen
was my mother's, and she had recently died.
I also explained that the phone had a few pictures of my mom and I in it.
She denied even having the phone, of course.
Now, for all of you reading this, I just have to say that I tried people I tried,
but I kind of lost it right then. I yelled at her, bullshit I just texted it before
I knocked on the door and I heard that fucking text tone.
My boyfriend, who was standing right behind me the whole time, tried to pull me back as
it was the landlord's house after all.
As all that was going on, her boyfriend happened to walk into their living area behind her,
but as soon as he saw and heard me, he took right back off out of the living area.
She kept denying it and just kept getting angrier and angrier whilst yelling louder and louder.
Eventually, my boyfriend had to step in and basically pull me back down the stairs.
Next I called the cops. Since I had proof via the phone's location on my family's
share map, proving where it was and also had my online account, which had all their phone
activity recorded on it. The cops even snuck up the stairs to listen
for my phone while I texted and called it.
As I found out from the officers that night,
the couple were both searchable because of one being on parole
and the other a felon on probation.
Although they ended up searching for over an hour
in the small apartment, they didn't actually get my phone back. You know, I even told her that if she emailed me, the pics from the
phone with my mom and I, that she could just keep the phone and I wouldn't call the cops
or do anything else to them. But no, I ended up with it neither. The young couple didn't
stop there though. For their next performance, the young
couple again broke into the landlord's house but stole her car keys and car at the time.
As you know, our landlord couldn't even drive himself, so that was the vehicle that we used to
take him out and around. The landlord's car was gone for four days or so, and the cops eventually found it ditched
in a nearby canyon.
Since the landlord couldn't receive the call to inform him of the discovery of his car,
they had to take it to an impound and store it, costing him almost three grand.
After all that crap, I still had to live there part-time since my mom's house that I
had inherited
had no kitchen due to renovations. During that time, the neighbor for some stupid reason
let her German shepherd out of its fenced area as soon as my four-year-old son exited
my car. It was a new dog to her, so I was appalled when it ran up towards my son barking and then growling.
How would she know how the dog would react around strangers let alone kids?
Thankfully I moved into another house as soon as the renovations were done.
After I moved out of that place and got away from her, my intermittent stomach problems
stopped completely. The landlord even told me that she had calmed way down after I left, even though my boyfriend
still lived there.
Nice peaceful ending, right?
Well, not as far as I'm concerned, because one night I got a wild hair for some petty
revenge.
You see there was a gate about halfway at the long winding driveway.
I had noticed that there was also a chain on the pole that the gate would close to,
and that gave me an idea. I took an old combination lock that I had around the house and straight
up locked her ass in the yard with that gate and the chain. Since the landlord couldn't drive himself out,
and I had already taken him to town to get what he needed earlier that day, I knew that he would
be fine and well enough, plus I knew he would laugh his ass off when he heard about my little
misdeed. I didn't get to see her stupid face when she realized that she couldn't leave for work
the next morning, but I'll bet it was classic. From what I heard a little later, she reversed the car,
back up the windy driveway to fume to her landlord after she first realized that she was locked in.
He said that it was hilarious. Even more hilarious was the fact that it took her almost four hours
to get someone up there to cut the lock off so that she could finally go to work.
My life went back to normal after I moved out, thankfully.
The only thing that any of us could come up with was that she must have been jealous
of me after the things that her husband had said about my body back when I was only 16
years old.
Either way, though, that was definitely an experience.
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When this story took place I was about 18 years old and fresh out of high school.
I lived with my grandparents at the time and my cousin, his girlfriend, and their kids
all lived with us as well.
My little cousin who was about 10 at the time, also lived there.
To simplify things, there were nine of us, four being little kids.
My granddad started hanging around this guy named Adam.
He would come by the house almost every single day.
I didn't have a job at the time, so I would see Adam constantly.
He would stay at the house for hours, and it was almost like he lived with us at some point.
He never came off as creepy, or even weird. My dad even knew him and grew up around him,
so everyone just felt comfortable around him. Well, after a few months of him coming by every
single day, he just stopped.
It actually hurt my granddad's feelings because they were really close.
They didn't get into an argument or a disagreement, so he didn't understand why he stopped coming
by.
About two years go by, and I moved back to Florida to live with my dad.
I started working overnight at Home Depot.
When I woke up one afternoon, I checked my Facebook and I saw that my dad posted an article
that had Adam's picture on it. The caption read,
Accused Fall River child rapist arrested an Alabama. In the article it stated that Adam faced up to two charges of sexual
assault of a child, three counts of indecent assault and battery on a person under 14,
and a charge of assault and battery of a minor. He was also on Bristol County District
Attorney's most wanted list. When I saw that I was completely shocked. I couldn't believe it. This man had been
around my family for months and we never had a clue. Then I remember being so pissed off because
he was around my baby cousins, with the oldest of the four being ten, the youngest being one.
He could have hurt any of them. I learned that day to always be cautious of any person
that comes around even if they're treated like family.
He's been in jail since.
To Adam, I hope you get the harshest sentence
that they can give you. The day started off like any other.
I was 21, living in Italy and at the time single.
For Valentine's Day, a group of my single friends and I decided to get together at one of
their apartments, drink way too much wine, and watch some porn.
Basically do what we thought the typical single person should do on Valentine's Day according
to a bunch of 21-year-olds.
Around 10pm, we all head over with our bottles of wine, hang out, and settle down to watch
whatever porn that we could find on our friend's computer.
However, we all find out minutes later that the speaker is broken and there's no sound.
So drunkenly we decide to watch it anyway, but come up with our own dialogue, which culminates
in one of the best bonding moments with the group of people
I've ever encountered.
As the night wears on one by one, the group starts to thin as everyone begins to return
home, and by 2am I find myself the only one left alongside my friend whose apartment
it was.
Now, I say the word friend loosely, as he was part of the overall group
that I hung out with, but we didn't usually hang out, just the two of us. Plus, I got a weird vibe
from him. So as he begins to slide closer to me on the couch, I realize that I should probably
head home as well, so that he doesn't get
the wrong idea. As drunk as I was, I didn't want to put myself in a precurious situation,
which is comical based on what happened next.
At my quote unquote friend's urgency to stay, I utilized my foggy intuition to grab my things, leave, and walk the eight long blocks south past the train tracks and outside my bright-lea-lit city center to my apartment.
As a young woman, I do what I was taught, or at least what I remember when walking home alone at night. I only have one earpiece in while listening to music.
I walk in the middle of the street, and not on the dimly lit sides,
and I cross the street back and forth every once in a while,
in order to see if there's anyone behind me.
As I get to the edge of the city center, everything seems fine.
The city is asleep, and I begin to relax.
But as I make my way to the dark overpass that crosses the train tracks, a man materializes next to me out of nowhere. Hello, he says, in Italian. I nervously say hi back, but mentally I'm
racking my brain for any moment where I may have seen him behind me. I know I wasn't that drunk
at this point, and I would have at least heard him, right? As I continue to walk across
the overpass, he falls in step with me and asks if it's okay if he walks with me for
a bit. Now I could have said no, that I didn't feel comfortable, but I'm also a horror fan,
and I've watched way too many crime shows like criminal minds at the time. So I felt that my best
bet was to get out of this situation by playing along in a way, to allow him to walk with me.
He seems friendly enough, asking what I'm doing in Italy, since clearly I wasn't Italian.
And I tell him vaguely that I'm studying abroad.
I then ask if he's originally from the city, and he mentions that he's studying at the
university as well.
He shares what he's studying, where he grew up, what he liked to do, that he asks me about my family and why
I'm randomly walking in the city at 2am.
After a couple of blocks, I actually feel comfortable.
He's so easy to talk to, and I wonder if I made a mistake by being worried about this
guy in the first place.
The next part of the conversation would bring me back to reality. So you were worried about
your friend doing something to you? He asks me when I tell him about the Valentine's
Party and not wanting to be alone with my quote-unquote friend.
I guess so, I responded. Then he stops and looks into my eyes and quietly asks,
and you're not worried about me doing something to you.
In this moment, my skin begins to crawl.
I freeze in my...
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Mind goes blank. I try to discreetly look to see how far my apartment building is, but
it's still too far away to make a run for it. Plus, I wouldn't want to lead him to my
roommates. We're all female. I'm stuck and possibly fucked. So I think of the only
thing that may deescalate the tension and smile. Then I say, no, I'm not. While looking
into his eyes, I also add, should I? At that, he smiles back, and though the smile never completely reaches his eyes, he replies,
no, I guess not. Good, I say, and we continue to walk towards my apartment.
It's not lost on me that if he continues to walk with me, he will know where I live, and at
this point I have no idea if he would try to let himself
in. As my apartment comes into view, two blocks away. I open my mouth to tell him that I
can take it from here. And I thank him for walking with me. But he beats me to it by saying
I'll leave you here. Surprised I thank him, half expecting a hug or a kiss as this is Italy,
but he simply says goodbye without touching me at all. I then turn and begin to walk the
rest of the way home alone. When I turn around seconds later, he's nowhere to be found.
I turn in a full circle, looking toward every direction to see if I can catch a glimpse
of him walking away, but there's nothing.
No sound of someone walking, absolutely nothing.
All of a sudden I get the sense that I'm being watched, and I panic.
As I began to wonder if he's hiding in weight, I turned sharply and began to sprint to my apartment building door while urgently fumbling from my keys.
Amazingly, with the correct key in hand, it slides into the keyhole seamlessly.
And as I turn the key the door opens and I'm able to slide in and quickly slam the door shut. A drill and racing, I run up the four flights of stairs to my apartment, open the door and
fall onto the floor as my roommate's brush out of their rooms to see what all the commotion
was about.
As I recount the evening to them, they just to stare silently, with wide eyes, then
make me promise to never do anything like that ever again.
But I don't need them to tell me that.
That evening would stay in my memory forever.
And as I still look back on it on that Valentine's 14 years ago,
I'm left with so many unanswered questions.
How did this guy come out of nowhere?
How did he just vanish?
What would have happened if I hadn't gotten to my apartment as quickly as I did?
One thing I do know for sure
Do this mysterious man who walked me home? I'm totally fine if we never meet again Don't forget if you're a patron, stick around after the music for your extended, add
free version of this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast.
And if you are wanting access to all that bonus content, head over
to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast to support the show and sign up today.
Also don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts,
Odd Trails, my True Paranormal Podcast, and the Old Time Radiocast at crypticcountypodcasts.com
or wherever you get your podcasts.
This week you have heard, I live below a cult leader and I fear I've angered her by
well this is weird 20, at the door by AR, the neighbor by Sonora, the cool guy by Miona,
and finally, Mystery Man by Sarah.
All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission
of their respective authors.
Let's not meet, a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit, or any other message
boards online.
As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
I'll see y'all next week.
Stay safe. I became a single mom at the tender age of 19.
Having a child so young was tough.
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